I am twenty-nine years old. Perhaps Im the most hopelessly naive woman alive, because until recently, I believed my family was perfectly fine. I was utterly wrong in my choice My husband turned out to be a traitor and a self-centred man. I can hardly believe what hes done to me, even now.
Weve known each other for a decade, six of those as man and wife. His name is Phillip, gentle and attentivejust the sort to provide for me and the children, our lovely son and daughter. With my help, Phillip managed to start his own business, which flourished, pouring pounds into our lives like gold coins in a fairy tale.
I worked as a sales assistant, but lately I opened a small online dress shop from home. So, while my daughter is at nursery and my son naps with his stuffed fox, I work and earn.
My weight always hovered around fifty-four kilos, but after giving birth, I put on another twenty. I optimistically thought the marathon of caring for two young children would help the pounds fall away. But things are never as simple as they first appear in dreams. I set myself a goal to lose the weight: healthy eating, exercise, oceans of water, and I swore off pastries and white bread. But the scale refused to budge, and it gnawed at me. I grew self-conscious and endlessly dissatisfied with myself.
After the second birth, I stopped recognising the woman in the mirror. Id lost my sense of being feminine and attractive. Phillip seemed to morph before my eyes as well; he no longer kissed or cuddled me. Let alone anything else. I cant even remember the last conversation that wasnt about the weekly food shop or school forms. Our talk was all domestic routine, ticking list after list.
I admit, before the children, I felt more confident and desirable. Now a cold discomfort creeps in whenever I glance at my reflection. I know our marriage has suffered for it. Thats why I resolved to fix things. One afternoon, I wanted to surprise my husband. I made him a lovely lunch and went to his office, walking through the wind-blown mews of London. As I approached his door, I overheard a whisper:
Sweetheart, dont fretIll come round after work. I told my wife Im buried with work. She hasnt the slightest clue you exist!
I couldnt open the door. I just turned sharply and drifted away, the buildings on the street melting at the edges like ice under sunlight.
Does he not understandI gained weight because I bore our children. Hes hardly perfect himself, carrying his own excess around his middle, yet all he notices are my flaws.
I began to wonder if my husband also thinks Im a fool?
I couldnt face telling Phillip what Id heard. What should I dofile for divorce? But the children? What about their hearts, drifting without a father? Should I pretend nothing happened? I doubt I can bear it.
For now, Ive decided to look after myself. I joined a gym, half-hidden in an old church under the shade of a willow. First, Ill show him what hes lostand what I can bethen, only then, will I decide what to do next.
